


KINGS

by Han



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Mental Institutions, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han/pseuds/Han
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU | Isana Yashiro gets a part-time job at Shizume City's mental hospital, meeting a plethora of people who probably aren't the sanest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pawn

**I.**

The bare lightbulb flickers halfheatedly from its lone place in the center of the ceiling. There's a table made of old steel and a chair with something that probably used to resemble a cushion at one point. 

Isana Yashiro fidgets, uncomfortable in the eerie room, but says nothing as he waits. The door opens surprisingly smoothly as a figure walks in, dressed in a white doctor's coat and clutching a clipboard.

"Ah, I apologize for being late," says the figure, a pale skinned man with long silver hair. There's an odd smile on his lips. "Isana.. Yashiro, was it? Our new part-timer."

 _"H-Hai!"_ the boy stutters briefly, bowing his head in nervous respect. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Weismann."

"Likewise," Weismann holds out an upturned palm in polite invitation, "Welcome to Shizume City's mental rehabilitation facility. I look forward to working with you."

**II.**

There's quite a variety of patients in the institution, he discovers.

Two people he's not allowed to meet yet. They are, he's told, the most dangerous to other people. One might kill you, the other might make you kill yourself.

The rest he figures he will meet soon enough. He's too late in the case of Kushina Anna, though. While reading a clipboard of checkouts and treatments, the innocent scrawl of her name makes him pause.

_Kushina Anna - Lobotomy_

There's a story behind the completely burned down third wing, and he knows it has something to do with the written words in front of him.

**III.**

Fushimi Saruhiko makes him shudder. 

Fundamentally, he's missing something. He teeters at the edge of it, ready to swing in any direction. Sociopathic and bipolar, says the diagnosis, but the labels are never good enough to describe everything. Sometimes he screams Yata Misaki's name, and the sound of it can send those shudders down, down, down...

And there's something different about him, that sets him apart from others. It's easy to tell how brilliant this man is, only when he wants to be. His mind encroaches, poisonous and unpredictable. 

His scathing words hit home more often than anyone would like, and Yashiro is thankful he's never been caught alone with the other. He wouldn't be able to last the verbal assault.

 _\--Shows disturbing interest in blood and flesh_ , continues the report.

Nor the physical one.

**IV.**

No one ever speaks Neko's real name, because she's liable to scratch your eyes out if you do. She has claws, Yashiro notices with a bit of apprehension. The staff always try to cut her nails so short she can't file them into deadly points, but she does it anyway. Filing through the flesh of her fingers until they're bloody triangles, until her nails are sharp enough to scratch.

She doesn't normally do anything with them, it just seems to be a comfort. The part-timer guesses its's because she truly believes she's a cat. Meowing, pawing, licking, walking on all fours. She does it.

The first time he walked in on her taking off all of her clothes was a huge shock. He was red for hours after.

**V.**

"That's Yatogami Kuroh," one of the nurses comments, with a hint of pity in her voice, when she spots Yashiro staring at one of the patients. 

Yatogami Kuroh has this aura of unwavering intensity, something reflected in his grey eyes and a gaze as sharp as the blade of a sword. With sleek black hair, refined features, and such a confident demeanor, he doesn't seem like he belongs in a mental institution. There's something about him that draws the part-timer closer.

"Apparently he was sent here after he started believing he was some sort of prophet, given visions by someone. His own mother checked him in," she continues openly, "There's something in his file about stalking charges, I heard."

The white haired teenager shakes his head rapidly, not wanting to hear anymore. It just can't be as bad as it sounds. Yatogami Kuroh seems so rational and level headed.

His gut tells him that there's more to these people, the patients, than what's written on a sheet of paper. He discovers that he wants to find out what exactly that 'more' entails.


	2. Pawn II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Yatogami Kuroh.

**I.**

The first time the two meet face to face is when Yashiro has to escort the other to the office because there's a phone call for him. The impressions made are...different.

Kuroh's eyes immediately narrow when he sees the part-timer, his frown deepening. The white haired boy resists the urge to cringe or flinch at the look, but only barely. He's sure he hasn't done anything to be hated yet.

"Who are you?" Kuroh asks, but it's more like a demand. "A relation of Weismann?"

"No no no!" Yashiro exclaims, after he's taken a moment to get over his shock at being addressed so abruptly. His hands are waving in the air, wildly gesturing. "I'm Isana! Isana Yashiro. I've just started working here a few days ago."

The black haired patient gives him a look of consideration, as if weighing his response.

"I see," comes the clipped answer. "My name is Yatogami Kuroh, vassal of the one and only Lord Miwa Ichigen."

The introduction throws Yashiro off, because it sounds so outlandish, not something he'd expect the other to come out and say. There's a pregnant pause as he digests this, but he looks up at Kuroh and gives him a strained sort of half smile.

"I-Is that so? Um... who is this... Lord Miwa Ichigen? I've never heard that name before."

It's like his question flips a switch in the usually composed Kuroh, because those sharp eyes light up like the glare of the sun on a smooth surface. The part-timer swears there were sparkles in the air too.

"Lord Ichigen is a man of incredible and undeniable intellect, poise, wisdome, and grace! He is well versed in a variety of subjects, such as history, literature, and swordsmanship! My lord constantly bequeaths to me his elegant words of advice, as he possesses the ability to see the future. He is also an avant garde poet of great esteem!" This is all said rapidly, in quick succession, excitement clear in the tone of his voice.  
Yashiro's not quite sure how to react.

"Can you not hear his voice?" Kuroh's eyes seem to glaze over as he stares at something in the air with absolute reverrence. "Even now, I hear him. _Ahh_... Lord Ichigen..."

The dark haired patient is lost in his own world for the rest of the walk.

**II.**

That had been the start of a strange sort of friendship. Isana Yashiro is sure there is something against this in the institution's policy, but he doesn't really feel like caring all that much. Kuroh is a unique fellow, serious and traditional yet slightly childish at the same time. 

"Good morning, Kuroh," Yashiro smiles warmly, pausing on the middle of one of his daily rounds. His paleness makes him seem fragile in the light of the rising sun, and Kuroh almost has to cover his eyes to see past the glow.

"Good morning, Shiro." Nevertheless, he obligingly returns the greeting. "Today looks to be especially radiant."

"Uh, yes, the forecast is nothing but good news," the part-timer replies, assuming the other to be talking about the weather. Kuroh does not correct him. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again.

"Say, I've been thinking about it," Yashiro starts up a conversation, his brows furrowing a bit as he puts on an expression of thought. His voice gains an almost whimsical quality, "Remember when you told me about... Miwa Ichigen?"

"Yes. Has Lord Ichigen's teachings finally reached your ears?"

"...No, it's nothing like that... I was just wondering... is he a god or something? You praise him a lot," he asks this while rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. It's not that he wants to encourage the other, but his curiosity is a curse.

"A god?" Kuroh seems genuinely surprised at that, glancing at the white haired teenager. "No, Lord Ichigen is a King."

"King?" Yashiro tilts his head to one side, a bemused look on his face. "I see..."

He doesn't see. Not really.

**III.**

If there is one experience Yashiro would like to forget, it would undoubtedly be December 7th.

It's only a few weeks into his new job, the start of new responsibilities and a level of clinical familiarity with the rest of the workers. He's been making the morning rounds to make sure everyone is up and ready before the alarm rings for breakfast, and he's gotten mostly settled into a routine.

It's his second to last stop when he gets no customary response. 

Totsuka Tatara is a nice fellow, always with a smile or a song or a word of encouragement. With the exception of today, he's never failed to wake up and chat with Yashiro. There's a smell in the air that is heavy and sickening, and absolutely no sign of movement near the door.

"Totsuka-san?" the white haired teenager calls hesitantly, looking worried. He takes a set of keys out and unlocks the door, pushing it open gently. It swings inward with a slow creak.

What he sees horrifies him, and his body begins to shake uncontrollably.

There's red paint on the wall, smeared and shaped into words. But it's not paint. It's not paint and _there's so much _\--__

___IT'S A GOOD NIGHT._ _ _

__That message will forever be burned into his mind._ _

__**IV.** _ _

__The other patients don't take the news well. And actually, that's the understatement of the century._ _

__When Yashiro runs out of the room, hands dripping blood because he tried to see if Totsuka Tatara was still alive or not, he's spotted by Yata Misaki. He doesn't realize the consequences of this until the man tries to strangle him on sight._ _

__He's only just entered the mingling area when a half roar half scream pierces his eardrums and something heavy and solid slams into him. He's knocked onto the floor hard enough to leave bruises, his head meeting the ground with a thud that leaves him seeing stars. A flash of orange hair, the feel of warm fingers sliding around his neck and squeezing, a punishing weight around his middle._ _

__The white haired boy starts to struggle for air, and the grip around his air pipe feels like its burning hot._ _

__"You! I saw you coming from his room, caught you red handed! You piece of shit, you killed Totsuka-san! You'll pay for that!" His yells are loud and enraged, but they sound muffled to Yashiro, whose sight starts to blacken._ _

__Then suddenly, the pressure is off and he can breathe again._ _

__"Arghh! Let go of me, fucking dog! I'll kill you!"_ _

__"Don't you dare lay a finger on him," the familiar, low voice of Kuroh reaches him._ _

__"You can't tell me what to do! If you want to defend him so badly, I'll just get rid of you first!"_ _

__"If you intend to fight me, don't expect any mercy," Kuroh answers, his voice promising a swift and painful loss._ _

__That's when Yashiro passes out, and when the staff rushes in with the sedatives._ _


	3. Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things start to heat up, and not in a good way.

**I.**

It takes Yashiro a week to recover enough to come back to work. He's not really sure why he returns, but he needs the money for his sick sister Mari. Her treatments are expensive, and their parents have recently become estranged. To put it mildly.

That and, there's something about it that calls him.

He's standing outside the main building now, staring up at the highest window and wondering how nice it would be to eat lunch on the roof. Perhaps he'll be able to sneak there later, when he needs a break.

He doesn't doubt that he will have to find a place to hide. It seems about half the patients in the institution have become agitated and restless since the 7th. Yata Misaki was simply the first to make a move.

Yashiro wants to shiver, but it's too warm.

Instead, he sweats.

**II.**

"Shiro," Kuroh calls, a tinge of worry in his voice. Yashiro spots him from the main office, and the black haired patient glides down to meet him at the window. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, Kuroh," the part-timer blushes slightly from embarrassment, "You were worried? Sorry, it took me a while to come back."

"Think nothing of it," comes the accepting reply as the other nods in acknowledgement, "It is my fault. If I had only come to your rescue sooner..."

"No no no!" Yashiro cries, his habit of over the top hand gestures coming out again, "You saved me, Kuroh! It's because of you I am still able to work here. Thank you!"

Kuroh turns away and for a moment it seems he might leave, but the white haired teenager notices a redness about his ears and grins a bit slyly. 

"--Still, the fact remains they believe you to be responsible for Totsuka Tatara's death," Kuroh changes the subject. His eyebrows are furrowed and his steel grey eyes alert. "What do you intend to do about this?"

"U-Uh..." Yashiro scratches his head, staring blankly. 

" _You--!_ " Kuroh starts, tone a mix of angry and exasperated. He's interrupted, however, by a happy exclamation.

"Shiro!!!" Neko barrels into her fellow patient and leans into the window, her mismatched eyes sparkling with eagerness. She seems genuinely happy to see the part-timer. "You're back!"

"Hi Neko," he says, a bit unnerved but still smiling. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Mmrrrrrreow!" she pouts, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, "It's all because of that bad man! Hurting my Shiro! Hssss! He won't get away with that again, okay? Please don't go away!" She proceeds to cauterwaul and paw at the window frame.

"Got it, I-I understand Neko!" Yashiro tries to calm her down while Kuroh watches with a disapproving frown, "I won't be leaving any time soon.. I still..."

He closes his eyes, and Kuroh freezes with his own gaze settling right above the other's head. Yashiro doesn't notice the shock on the male patient's face.

"...I still have things I need to do. I don't know why, but that's the way I feel."

**III.**

Isana Yashiro counts it lucky that the time he meets Kusanagi Izumo, he is nowhere near the man and also not the only other person in the room.

There's a wall of glass in between the two when their eyes meet, but even then he can feel the fire that threatens to lick his bones to ash. There's something chilling about this man, and it's not just his alcoholism or, ironically, his pyromaniac tendencies.

Like the long drag of a cigarette, his presence is a slow scorching death. There's a willingness to burn itching in those slim fingers, and Yashiro does not doubt that his flesh would be first priority.

It's no coincidence that smoking's been banned indefinitely.

**IV.**

Days later, and the tension starts to get to him.

Dr. Weismann arranges a meeting in his office, and Yashiro squirms under the scrutiny of his boss. The long silver haired man has a serious expression on his face, but the air about him is almost amused. He conceals it well, but the white haired teenager can feel it in his gut. 

"Isana-kun," Weismann says with a regretful sigh, "I'm afraid things will not get better for a while. I've been observing the patients closely, and I think for your safety I'll have to relocate you."

" _Huh?_ " For a moment, Yashiro flounders. "Relocate? But, I mean.. where?"

The look on the other man's face is the picture of benevolence.

"You've become quite invaluable to this institution... I would hate to have to lose you over something like this. In light of the current situation, I feel it would be best if I sent you to _that man_. No one amongst Totsuka Tatara's close peers would dare come near if I placed you there." 

This doesn't sound good at all, and Yashiro swallows uneasily. He's the type to get scared easily, and nothing that's coming out of Weismann's mouth is reassuring.

"T-That is... uh..."

"It's decided," the doctor smiles widely, smoothly speaking over Yashiro's attempts to voice concern, "It's a temporary measure, but for now you'll be in charge of the Blue Room."


	4. Knight II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Cutting
> 
> Yashiro steps into a very different place. Or does he?

**I.**

When Yashiro returns to the main area, intending to pack his things and move his workspace over to the Blue Room, he is accosted by Kuroh and Neko. The two seem to have this uncanny ability to find out where he is, but he doesn't mind it. It's actually a relief to see some familiar, and friendly, faces before he has to go. 

True, he's not actually going to leave the hospital... but it's upstairs, a whole new level.

"Shiro!!!" Neko purrs, latching onto him and rubbing her cheek against his face. He smiles a bit indulgently, pushing back his initial feeling of awkwardness. 

"Neko, Kuroh," Yashiro greets, glancing at the black haired man off to the side. Kuroh is staring at the paper in his hands, gaze intently reading the words scrawled on it.

"Nurse Awashima Seri, level two," Kuroh says aloud, his voice steady and his eyes slightly narrowed. His eyes snap up to meet Yashiro's. "That's.."

"Ah..." the part-timer is not sure how to break it to the two of them. "I got transferred.. I'm supposed to report to this person..."

"Ehhh??" Neko cries, despair written across her face. "Why? Shiro is going away? Neko doesn't want that!" She starts keening as Kuroh gives her a sharp look.

"So the evil King has made his first move," the male comments darkly, adopting a look of distaste.

"--Huh?"

"Sending you to the Blues, though... what will he gain by doing that? Lord Ichigen should know..." Kuroh is already lost in his own world, and Yashiro just looks confused.

In the end, he's sent off with a terse promise that Kuroh will to the bottom of this. Whatever _this_ is.

**II.**

When he arrives on the second floor, a box of his papers clutched to his side, Isana Yashiro realizes why the people here are called the Blues. For one, their uniform is a dark shade of the color, a bit different from the off white of the first floor. 

Maybe there's more to it but it seems like a fairly obvious explanation.

He's met with a crisply dressed blond woman with icy eyes. She has a smile on her face but it's tight and clinical. "Isana Yashiro?" she says, turning away in one clean movement. He assumes she expects him to follow, and he trails behind her hesitantly. "I'll lead you to your temporary space."

The walk is uncomfortably silent, the clipping sounds of her heels echoing painfully. He's almost too afraid to speak, as if she'll freeze his bones with a reproachful stare should he do so. After a while, she halts beside an empty desk and speaks. The sudden action startles him out of his spiralling anxieties.

"Isana," Awashima Seri addresses him curtly. He instinctively stands at attention.

"H-Hai?"

"...Calm down, I'm not going to do anything to you," she says, and the white haired male blushes in embarrassment. Her next words don't make him feel any better, however. "The same can't be said for the person you'll be monitoring."

There's a frustrated expression on her face that is quickly smoothed out.

"I don't know what Dr. Weismann is thinking, assigning someone like you for the job. You have no experience dealing with--" She stops herself and takes a deep, calming breath, her manner once again becoming professional.

"I will say one thing." Awashima gives him a measuring glance. "Don't make yourself too interesting. Catching his attention is not a good thing."

The part-timer gulps audibly. "H-heh.. well, I have to say I think I'm a very boring person. Nothing to worry about here!!"

"Hmph," is her dismissive reply. "I'll give you some time to acclimatize to this place. Tomorrow, you'll officially start. I hope you're prepared."

Then she leaves him.

**III.**

There are new people to meet.

Akiyama Himori is nice enough, a quiet and mellow guy with soft expressions. He's got an unassuming presence. Yashiro makes easy friends with him, latching onto the most obviously harmless guy there.

Only, he's not so harmless.

It's an unfortunate thing, really, when his mood changes abruptly and Yashiro is caught in the middle of it.

He's still screaming when they drag him away, some sort of mantra over and over and over.

_For our cause is pure._

The sentence echoes inside of Yashiro's head, somehow sounding like it's being said by more than a single voice. It's a ghost's chorus, sending a jolt of apprehension down the part-timer's spine.

_For our cause is pure._

Over and over and _over_ and...

**IV.**

It's the opposite for Andy Doumyouji.

The red head is abrasive, arrogant, and violent tempered. 

And if Fushimi's tongue is a poisonous, corrosive knife, then Andy's is a heavy, blunt steel bat. Yashiro just barely refrains from flinching at the other's insensitive assumptions, or his habit of getting into other people's faces.

It's not Andy's fault though, when he lashes out like that. It's just the only way he knows how to cope. How to reassure himself that he can feel, that he can be in control.

The only way other than cutting, that is.

The row of pink lines down his wrist is a permanent tally of what Yashiro likes to think of as how many times Andy has lived.

It's been three months since the last one was carved.

**V.**

Overall, the feel of level two is not as warm as level one. It's hard to put into words but there's a certain level of coldness, very unlike the comfortable familiarity he'd gotten used to.

At the same time, however, there's something inside of him that feels distinctly unsettled when he looks around the place. Things... don't match up. 

Akiyama chants a strange, cult-like motto.

Andy Doumyouji is rumored to have whispered "At the ready" the last time he got his hands on a sharp edge.

Yujiro Benzai needs to have 4 of everything.

Ryuho Kamo is an empty, motionless shell whose mind only surfaces to call Nurse Awashima "Lieutenant" or when he passes the door at the end of the floor.

There's a pattern in all of the patients that isn't natural. He doesn't know what the pattern is but it's there.

**VI.**

Yashiro hasn't been all the way down the hall yet, and he's not sure he wants to be.

He has a feeling that behind the last door is where both the answers and the mysteries begin.


	5. Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait... my finals are almost over.

**I.**

The room at the end of the hall always has its doors closed, the blue-grey of their metal surfaces a bit too clean for comfort.

Yashiro peeks at it from around the corner. Today is the day he's supposed to start his assignment, but he's having a hard time mustering up the courage to even get close.

The pen clutched between his pale fingers is reassuringly solid, made of stainless steel and given to him by Kuroh.

It has a name.

Kotowari, if he remembers correctly.

Kuroh had handled it with much the same fondness that accompanies his ramblings of the great Lord Ichigen. He also referred to it as the sword under the lake.

Yashiro thinks the other has been reading too much King Arthur.

The pen doesn't even work, it has no ink. The white haired boy had found this out when trying to write with it earlier, an invisible scrawl of script where black should have been.

In the end, though Kuroh isn't supposed to have something like this (it goes against the ward's policy), he's kept it a secret from Dr. Weismann. Gripping the cool silver barrel lends Yashiro inexplicable strength.

Right now, he sorely needs it.

**II.**

"Isana."

The composed voice of Nurse Awashima, sounding right behind him, causes Yashiro to flinch violently.

"N-Nurse Awashima.." he says a bit breathlessly, forcing a wobble of a smile onto his face. His palm is pressed against his startled heart. "Is it that time already?"

The blonde raises an eyebrow. "What else have you been waiting here for?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, moving past him and heading for the room. In her arms she carries three flat boxes. The click of her heels echo against the hard flooring as she walks.

He follows her automatically, tucking the pen into his shirt pocket.

"Um... I'm still not quite sure what I'm supposed to do?" Yashiro attempts to keep up with her long strides. He gives voice to a very pressing question-statement, lapsing into his habit of flailing his limbs to convey urgency. "I mean, it's not like I want to mess this up but no one's told me anything!"

She glances a bit sharply at him, halting before the blue-grey doors.

"No one's told you anything? His file should at least have been released to you. Have you tried to access it?"

"Eh... his file? I'm allowed to see that?"

Awashima sighs through her nose at him and adopts a weary tone. "I do not know what Dr. Weismann is thinking."

That's the second time she's said that.

_I don't know what he's thinking._

And to be honest, neither does Yashiro.

**III.**

The doors open anti-climatically, much to Isana Yashiro's private relief. They don't creak like a forest of old trees in howling winds, nothing black and misty seeps from inside them.

Instead, they lead to a small living space, and a sitting area that is surprisingly tidy.

A glass wall separates the two parts of the room, amazingly clear except for one small sticker in the bottom left hand corner. The sticker is blue and round, with small white text that reads a company name.

Yashiro, however, is more interested in what's beyond the glass. Or, rather, _who._

There is a man standing in plain view, with his hands in his pants pockets and a posture so relaxed it seems out of place. Both Awashima Seri and Isana appear laughably tense in his presence.

His dark blue hair glints a brighter shade due to the light fixtures overhead. His eyes are obscured by a pair of white framed glasses, but Yashiro swears he sees a flash of purple behind the glare of the lens.

"Ah, Awashima-kun... you've returned."

The man's voice is low, purposefully a bit airy and teasing. A slight smirk plays on his lips, one that only widens when he catches sight of what she's carrying.

"Is that..?"

Awashima Seri straightens imperceptibly, an almost challenging look in her icy gaze. "Limited Edition, famous landscapes."

"All of them?"

She looks at him archly and he readjusts his glasses.

"You are a truly inspirational woman, Awashima-kun." The man tilts his head, an unreadable look briefly crossing his face. She places the boxes down on the table in front of her and turns to her white haired coworker.

"This is Munakata Reishi," the nurse informs him, "He is your new responsibility."

**IV.**

When Awashima leaves the two alone, it's to a silence that drags for a good four minutes.

Yashiro stands there before the glass, looking anywhere but at the only other person in the room. For some reason he feels intimidated, despite the sense of distance the wall provides.

"I guess I should um.. introduce myself," he says after a pause, in a fair attempt to sound energetic instead of apprehensive. "My name is--"

"--Isana Yashiro," Munakata cuts in smoothly. "I've been wondering when you'd show up."

The white haired boy's mind goes blank, but his words return quickly.

"O-Oh, you must have heard from Nurse Awashima... yes, I'm Isana. Nice to meet you. I'll be in your care... or wait, no, it's the other way around?" His nervousness causes him to trip over his words.

Munakata smiles, but it's the kind of smile that sends a cold jolt of electricity down Yashiro's spine.

"Once again, you appear before me at the beginning of the end."

"...Huh?"

Yashiro is starting to see why the other is in this place, even if he's only been around Munakata Reishi for five minutes.

The man makes an impression.


	6. Queen II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yashiro takes his first step into a dark, twisted ocean.

**I.**

"...T-This is the first time I've met you," Isana Yashiro replies slowly after sweating through a pregnant lull in their conversation. He is not just a little bit confused. 

Munakata simply gives him an indulgent half-smile in response. "Is that a fact?"

Suddenly, the white haired boy is not so sure.

Another pocket of silence, but this time it's almost unbearably suffocating. There's a swirling in his gut and a pounding in his chest as his discomfort makes itself known.

"Uh.."

A glimmer of mild disappointment flashes across the, now clearly, chilled purple eyes of his patient. It lasts a mere instant. 

Yashiro is hit with the inexplicable notion that he has failed some sort of test. He is just shy of hyperventilating when Munakata deigns to give him an out. 

"Well, I suppose since we've never been properly introduced before, we haven't, by your standards, officially 'met'."

Some of the bewilderment clouding his mind clears, but a nagging, buzzing in the back of his head remains. Isana blinks and gathers some courage, putting a labored smile on his face.

"I'm sorry... we probably spoke by chance at a cafe or something, right? I don't really remember, so I apologize about that... I mean it! I'm really sorry but my memory isn't the greatest you see I tend to forget a lot of things that aren't routine and--"

A low, smooth laugh interrupts his rather embarrassing rambling. The white haired boy takes a moment to catch his breath and attempt to regain his composure. His success at this is not worth commenting on.

"I admit I have, to an extent, already anticipated this," the man behind the glass readjusts his white framed glasses with two pale fingers. The movement is strangely mesmerizing. "It is not an unexpected development."

Isana doesn't know what to make of this reaction. It sounds vaguely calculating and he definitely wants nothing to do with whatever the other is planning. His words stick in his throat like dry toast.

He needn't have worried about continuing their dialogue, however, because after that Munakata Reishi proceeds to turn around and, largely, ignore him.

Isana Yashiro has _never_ been more grateful for his apparent lack of presence.

**II.**

Still reeling from the utterly baffling, and almost completely one-sided, coversation with his 'new responsibility', Isana descends to the first floor of the institution. His shift has thankfully ended with little else happening between them, which is more than a bit of a relief.

Munakata Reishi is unlike anyone else he has ever met. The man exudes an incredible amount of self confidence and assurance, for one, and the white haired youth can't help but feel slightly small in his presence. It's as if he views the world from a place above regular people, like an idol from atop a pedestal.

As if he knows more about the universe than even the universe itself. 

He also seems to know Isana, if his cryptic words are to be believed. Though he may legitimately have been a passing acquaintance at some point, Yashiro won't argue that this familiarity makes the man incredibly creepy. 

And, in a way, incredibly troubling.

**III.**

On his way out, he impulsively decides to visit Kuroh.

The reassuring weight of Kotowari in his jacket pocket urges him onward until his feet stop outside an open doorway.

Inside, Yatogami Kuroh looks up as he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Something in his usually scowling expression lights up and he walks swiftly over to the room's threshold.

"Shiro!" There's a strong undercurrent of concern in his voice, and Yashiro's cheeks pink a little. Kuroh glances up and down, eyes travelling Isana's figure as if to gauge the imaginary damage done.

"He has not done anything to you, has he?" He demands, brows furrowed.

"Ahh, calm down Kuroh!" the part-timer placates, shaking his head frantically. "I'm perfectly fine!"

"...if you say so," Kuroh backs down grudgingly. He is quiet for a moment before straightening into his full height and adopting a more contemplative air. His attention has shifted onto other matters.

"I've attempted to confer with Lord Ichigen about your transfer. While it appears that your presence plays a role in several plots, I have yet to figure out what exactly the evil King intends for you," the black haired patient reveals to Yashiro.

"The... evil King?" Isana questions, a little bemused. He's heard this 'evil King' mentioned before but... "Who's that?"

"Weismann," Kuroh says flatly, as if this is all terribly obvious.

Maybe it is.

Isana does not presume to see the world the way Kuroh does.

**IV.**

The next day, Yashiro finds a stack of files on his little desk. The neat, meticulous handwriting and organized colored tabs betray Awashima Seri's involvement.

It looks important, so the white haired teenager sucks in an apprehensive breath and sits down. Cracking open the first folder is like easing open a door that contains an unknown danger.

He is treated to a low quality black and white photo of a man with long hair and a mature look about him.

_Habari Jin_ , he reads the kanji at the top of the page. Under it, a line of text spells out something that might have just turned his blood to ice.

_Guardian of Munakata Reishi. Status: Deceased._

Feeling a mounting sense of dread, Isana Yashiro snaps the file shut and quickly opens the next one in the stack.

The name _Zenjo Goki_ emblazons the top in stark black characters. _Guardian of Kusuhara Takeru._

Accused of assault. Multiple altercations. A picture of a nasty facial scar that streaks across the bridge of the man's nose slips from behind the front page.

Feeling sick, Yashiro pushes that away as well. The next file is opened just as hastily. Something cold, hard, and heavy drops down into his gut as he scans the words before him. 

_Kusuhara Takeru_ , previously in charge of the patient Munakata Reishi.

.... _Status: Deceased._


End file.
